to stand that because he's a
clergyman, was he, sir?"

"The Dean did just what you or I would do."

"That's just it, sir. That's what we all say. Thank you, sir. You won't
see Prince Edward's monument, sir? Gentlemen always do go down to the
crypt." Jack wouldn't see the monument to-day, and having paid his
half-crown, was left to wander about alone through the aisles.

How would it have been with him if his life had been different; if he
had become, perhaps, a clergyman and had married Mary Lovelace?--or if
he had become anything but what he was with her for his wife? He knew
that his life had been a failure, that the best of it was gone, and
that even the best of it had been unsatisfactory. Many people liked
him, but was there any one who loved him? In all the world there was
but one person that he loved, and she was the wife of another man. Of
one thing at this moment he was quite sure,--that he would never wound
her ears by speaking of his love. Would it not be better that he should
go away and see her no more? The very tone in which the verger had
spoken of Miss Mary had thrown to the winds those doubts which had come
from the teaching of Adelaide Houghton and Guss Mildmay. If she had
been as they said, would even her father have felt for her as he did
feel, and been carried away by his indignation at the sound of an evil
word?

But he had asked after the Dean at the hotel, and had told the verger
of his acquaintance, and had been seen by many in the town. He could
not now leave the place without calling. So resolving he knocked at
last at the deanery door, and was told that the Dean was at home. He
asked for the Dean, and not for Lady George, and was shown into the
library. In a minute the Dean was with him. "Come in and have some
lunch," said the Dean. "We have this moment sat down. Mary will be
delighted to see you,--and so am I." Of course he went in to lunch, and
in a moment was shaking hands with Mary, who in truth was delighted to
see him.

"You've come from Rudham?" asked the Dean.

"This moment."

"Have they heard the news there?"

"What news?"

"Lord Brotherton is there, is he not?"

"I think he left to-day. He was to do so. I heard no news." He looked
across to Mary, and saw that her face was sad and solemn.

"The child that they called Lord Popenjoy is dead," said the Dean. He
was neither sad nor solemn. He could not control the triumph of his
voice as he told the news.

"Poor little b